The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1887-07-01
LATE FORGIVENESS.

little tavern near one of the inlets where
the sea breaks through the long sand
bar into the Great South Bay, at
point about fifteen miles from New
York.
OF pleasant Sunday in Summer it
was pretty lively resort. Uncle Jake
made iovial host, and people used to
say that he owed his good health in a
great measure to the frequency with
which he drank to it himself. Most OF
the fishing parties from the harhors
along the bay stopped here for a clam
bake and a cocktail; yachtsmen an
chored near the inlet and sportsmen
would put up ut the tavern for q week or
two at a time.
But in winter it was a dreary SPOT
The monotonous turmoil of the surf
was broken only now and then 10y the
shrill cry OF the gull or the shrieking
OF the wind as II whirled across the bar.
During the long storms only an occa-
sional wrecker or patrol from the life
saving station visited the place, and at
any time in Winter party like ours was
a rarity.
real Bohemian freak had brought us
down to Uncle Jake's that night The
evening before dozen OF US artists had
met at little reunion in the studio OF
one OF our number, and one OF Us seeing
sketch of Uncle Jakc's tavern on the
easel, had proposed paying him Win
ter's visit.
We all knew Uncle Jake. and the idea
of Winters visit tu him was too much
OF a novelty to be resisted. So We set
out for the tavern the next day, and ar
rived there before night time. Uncle
Jake knew that the trip across the bay
had been a rough one. So he started a
roaring wood fire; and when we had
finished supper he put steaming bowl
Of punch on the table.
But despite his attention and he iollity
OF our party, he wasn't in the est OF
spirits. Not that he didn't dip his glass
into the punch bowl pretty often,
but he seemed moody and didn't talk
much.
His low spirits seemed also TO have a
depr. -SSing effect on Samson, his big
mastif, who was about as well known
along the coast as Uncle Jake himself
Usually he barked friendly welcome to
every one who came to the house. But
he had been sullen and silent all the even
ing and had sat near Uncle Jake,
resting his head on his masters knee
and now and then looking up wistfully
nj him.
l had known Uncle Jake and his big
dog longer than the others had, and l
noticed that something WAS wrong.
the old man seemed glad enough to
see me again and made me sit next to
him. But | felt that since / had been
there some change had come over him
and the dog and the old place; and at
times he looked a. though he would
like to tell me something but hesitated
OH account OF the others.
l remembered a pretty, bright-eyed
lass, about II years old. when / last
saw her, who was at the tavern in for
mer years, and whom We used to call
" Uncle Jake's little girl She made
herself handy about the place, and WAS
so simple and graceful in her bearing
that she was a fayorite with all who
went there. The sun had Drowned her
face and arms, and the wind had
played with her fair hair until it hung
over her forehead like tangled sun
beams.
She was tall and lithesome, and as
strong as she was graceful. Often,
when she was mere girl of 10 or -,
had seen her pulling her skiff across
the bay and hailing the old fishermen as
they scudded past In their smacks.
Many a time they would lay TO and
take her aboard and tow her skiff home
and then she would take the helm from
the skipper, trim the sheet and shout
with glee as the spray came dashing over
the bow.
wondered wha- had become OF her
and asked Uncle Jake. but he didn't seem
to hear my question, though the dog
easily before he skunk back to his mas
ter's feet. was about 10 ask the ques-
tion again when one OF our party pro-
posed n song.
While they gathered In a group around
the old piano in the corner, the old man
stole quietly to the door OF another room
and bockoned me to follow him. As
Joined him he was STOPPING over an old
bureau fumbling among some papers.
while the dog, who had slipped in after
him, watched him intently until he put
his hand on tin-type which he drew out
and showed me. 1t was the picture OF a
child, and I'm the features / recognized
g." Uncle Jake's little girl"
In the next room some one was play
ing a jansling accompaniment and the
rest were shouting a boistcrous song.
thought then would bo good time 10
ask him what had become of the girl
whose childish features we were looking
at, so ! inquired. by way OF introduction,
II he had ever been married. 1t was 10
this he had replied:
No. Mister, I amt spliced, noI
never was. But yer see" he continued,
as though he knew what ] was driving
ut, " It's uncommon lonesome here In
Winter, an many a time when I've heard
o some young one ashore yonder as
wasn't cared for at home, I've got its
folks to let me take it out here with me
The children kind o. cheered mo uI
durin' the long Winter evenin's, an wher
Summer came I'd ask to have 'em stay Z
bit longer. The little ones would bee
real hard, too, for made a good deal
of en-, and they thought kind o well o
me for 1t.
Some o. them stayed few years, but
Us they got big an could be handy al
home their folks fetched EN- away from
me; an so at last they all went; all bu'
little Maggie, her as they used to cal
Uncle Jake's little girl 1t was n bad
home I'd took her from, an afore shed
been with me long her father wandered
off an her mother died in the poorhouse
There wasn't no one TO take her from mt
then. so she stayed here an right GLAD
i was TO keep her.
- She was a smart, likely little thing
an 1 thought as I'd care for her an LAY
by bit o money for her. When she
first came here she was no more than 5
an when yer saw her two summers age
she was goin' OH Is.
- Yer know Maggie was as good-look
in girl as yer could find hereair outs
an many n feller as has come her, witt
his boat in Summer has been kind o tool
WI her. Twas kind o proud to havo EN-
SO too, for I'd precious good opinion
o Maggie, an liked to see EN- back IN,
up. II weren't every one she'd tai to
neither; for she'd make her choice lik,
any lady, would Maggie.
let her go Sailin' whenever she
wanted. She was a good girl an com
fort to me Summer and Winter, wal
Maggie.
It's goin' on three years now, Mis-
ter, that a little after the June Maggie
got to be eighteen. there was q youn,
feller as came over here 10 stay. H.
was a good-lookin' chap, strong an quick,
an as handy in a boat as any one
ever see. He seemed to kind O. like II
here.
In the beginnin' he hired one o. nv
boats by the week, an whom he'd had il
that way about four weeks he took IL